Page 72 of Daybreak

The detectives who’d gathered all stared at each other with a mixture of surprise and guilt. “We did go! At least ten or twelve of us… Everyone who wasn’t out on a case. Thanks for letting us know. We’ll check in on him today.”

At that point, Tom Rowdy walked in carrying a Starbucks coffee and a half-eaten Danish.

“Kingston! As I live and breathe! Good to see you still ticking,” Rowdy said.

Before Gunner could comment, he heard footsteps coming up behind him and turned around. Seeing this man’s face was the last omen Gunner needed to know he was doing the right thing. He disliked the man intensely, and that man felt the same.

“Lieutenant Rance. You must be the boss’s sub,” Gunner drawled.

Rance glared. They’d gone through the police academy together and had struck sparks off each other from the start.

“Kingston. We’re busy here. State your business.”

Before he could answer, there was a shuffling at the door. As everyone turned to look, a half-dozen men in black suits walked in, paused to look over the room, then headed straight for Tom Rowdy.

Gunner saw them and stepped back. Ah shit. His name was on that list.

“Thomas Lee Rowdy?”

Rowdy nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

The man flashed his badge. “Special Agent Ed Hanley. We have a warrant for your arrest. Charges include passing privileged information to Burgess Dixon in return for numerous monetary payments. Said information resulted in giving up the location of one of our safe houses, and the deaths of four FBI agents and the death of a material witness in the Burgess Dixon trial. You are also being charged with abetting in the hit and run of Dan Helford, also known as Yankee Dan, and abetting in the bounty that was issued for Gunner Kingston.”

Rowdy had turned every shade of red before he turned an ashy pale.

“I didn’t… Uh… You have to be mistaken; I would never…”

“Burgess Dixon’s suicide letter was, in fact, a list with the names and contact info of all of his informants, and your name is on it. We have time, place, and details of the offshore bank where you’re stashing the payouts you have received. They coincide with the crimes we have mentioned, and all of the solid evidence we need to prove it.”

Greg Rance was in shock, as were the other detectives. The only one of them who didn’t seem surprised was Gunner. As the Feds were taking Rowdy away, Greg Rance turned on Gunner.

“You knew? Was it you who gave him up?”

Gunner blinked. “Gave him up? What the fuck’s wrong with you? Burgess Dixon gave him up—gave up all his informants. If I’d known, I would have already beaten the shit out of him for trying to get me killed. However, I did suspect there was a dirty cop in this department, as everyone here can attest. I said it often enough. The first one I suspected was my partner, Cliff, for acting so damn weird after we brought Yankee Dan in to get his statement. But I didn’t say a damn thing. Not even when the old man was killed in a hit and run. Then I began wondering how Lieutenant Samuels had the knowledge to tell me that it was safe for me to come back to Dallas because the hit had been called off. But I didn’t call him out, either. I never saw this coming until I talked to Samuels yesterday, and he mentioned it was Rowdy who told him the hit was off and I would be safe to come back. There was no way to know that unless that someone had gotten the info straight from Dixon.”

Rance’s face flushed with anger. “But—”

“But nothing,” Gunner said. “Yesterday, I also learned that one of the special agents who died in that safe house was Tom Rowdy’s brother-in-law. Even then, I could not wrap my head around a man low enough to sell out his sister’s husband for a wad of dough.”

“It’s pretty convenient to just happen to be here when they come to get him,” Rance said.

Gunner took a paper from his inside pocket. “I didn’t come to see a rat dragged out of hiding. I came here to submit my resignation. Witnessing this was icing on the cake. Getting to watch the bastard who nearly got me killed get what was coming to him is the cherry on top.” He slapped his resignation on the desk, took off his weapon and holster, dropped the bulletproof vest at his feet, and unclipped his badge. “Being targeted and hunted like a dog because some worthless piece of shit liked money more than God puts a whole new spin on a man’s viewpoint of who he wants to work with. And you, standing there like the asshole you are, wanting to tar me with some kind of guilt just because you don’t like me, says absolutely everything about your lack of honor and morals. I’m outta here. And just FYI…to all of you. If Andy Samuels does return to work, it might be in your best interests to make peace with him about the visitations.”

Rance’s face was purple with unspent rage, but he could not deny a word of it.

Before Gunner could leave, Cliff grabbed his arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such an ass. I’m sorry I lost your trust.”

Gunner shrugged. “It’s over.”

“But where are you going? If you’re not a cop, what are you going to do?” Cliff asked.

“I’m going to get my lady and live happily ever after, and I don’t have to do a damn thing I don’t want to do for the rest of my life, because I’m the one who won the Mega Millions lottery, and the payoff money just landed in my bank this morning. Before any of you ask, the answer is no.”

He walked out, leaving the detectives shocked about the money and staring at Greg Rance in disbelief.

“What the hell, Boss? Defending the thin blue line is one thing, but you sure missed the point. A detective from our department just got hauled off by the FBI, charging him with abetting in six murders, and the attempted murder of one of our own, and you’re ragging on Gunner? Why? Because the hit man missed? That’s cold,” Frankie Adams said and walked away.